Uncategorized

There is depth to the knife industry. So much depth that a reviewer can review knives for 5 years, hire on 3 other writers to review knives, amass a catalog of over 300 knife reviews, and still not review knives from all the major manufacturers. That’s case with this website and Microtech at least. It’s almost shameful that we haven’t reviewed anything by Microtech yet. Thankfully, that gets remedied today.

Microtech is a medium sized knife manufacturer located in Bradford, PA. The company was founded in Vero Beach, FL in 1994, by Anthony Marfione, but then moved to Pennsylvania a decade later. As a Florida boy I have no idea why they would pack up and move to PA after 10 years. Usually it’s the other way around. There must be a lot of steel up in PA.

Microtech is known for their automatic knives, and their aggressive designs. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to buy one. I’m not a huge fan of autos, believing that a good manual folder can be almost as easy to operate, and less likely to draw the ire of law enforcement. Plus, their styling is the equivalent of Affliction shirts for the cutlery industry. Shockingly, a Microtech was the 3rd knife Jim Skelton ever reviewed. And it was from the “Zombie Tech” series at that. There is a lid for every pot.

Aesthetic preferences aside, the blades are also pricey. Not that price has stopped me from reviewing a knife in the past. I just gotta get a good deal on it, or really want to check out the knife. Plus the recent ugliness with the Tony S. lawsuit didn’t rev me up about the company either. I have wanted to check their knives out, but something else always took priority.

That all changed when I picked up this Sigil MK6. What a cool knife. This Sigil is beautifully built and richly detailed. Whoever designed it clearly had a lot of fun. My version is the “Apocalyptic” flavor, with a full stonewash and copper accent piece. Lets dive in.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The Sigil has an overall length of 8.75″, a 3.75″ blade, weighs 5.2 ounces, and is made in the USA. This is a sizable knife. It’s a bit more than I typically like to EDC, but it provides plenty of canvas. Microtech took advantage of this and covered every inch in ornamentation.

The floor to ceiling stonewash lends the knife an aged appearance, although my blade is date stamped “02/2017”.

The blade is a long, sloping, modified drop point. The tip is dropped low, and you only get a slight amount of belly. The tip is also fine and delicate. The blade shape and thumb cutout resembles a prehistoric bird.

A lot of attention went into this blade, and the machining is top notch. The thumb hole has a series of steps milled around it. The finger choil is delicately chamferred. The flipper area has been pocketed. The grinds are beautiful and even. The edge has been uniformly applied. No detail has been overlooked on this blade.

And the blade is made of M390 stainless steel. M390 is about as good as it gets in blade steel, exhibiting the enviable combination of high edge retention paired with easy sharpening. Most super steels are a bear to sharpen, but M390 isn’t bad. It’s one of my favorite blade steels and Microtech gives you almost 4 inches of it here with their Sigil.

Cutting performance is pretty good. The stock on this knife is relatively thick, and the partial flat grind has its geometric limits. Still I had no problem breaking down boxes, opening mail, and cutting fruit. The M390 held up like a champ.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

The handle is a celebration of milling, and a thing of technical beauty. Microtech is a highly skilled manufacturer, and that comes out clearly in the handle of the Sigil. The titanium handle slabs have been meticulously tooled from all angles, to the point where this knife could pass for an extra on the Dark Crystal.

You can become lost in the complexity of the Sigil. The insides have been pocketed out to lighten the knife. There is also extra fine milling for the frame lock release, the hardware for the pocket clip is hidden, a full titanium floating backspacer, and a copper pivot shroud doubles as a lock bar stabilizer. Microtech’s trademark proprietary hardware holds it all together.

Speaking of the proprietary hardware, although a lot of people aren’t a fan of non-standard hardware, I think it adds something to the overall effect of the knife. It’s totally different and helps make the Sigil feel special. That said, it would have been great if they included a tool. Actually came loose a couple times. Keep in mind I got this knife gently used, so this isn’t a comment on how it came from the factory. I was able to tighten everything down with my finger nail, but this is far from ideal. Thankfully the pivot feels snug and I haven’t had to mess with it yet.

The simple handle shape and heavy chamferring of the titanium handle makes the Sigil a comfortable knife in hand. That should come as no surprise give how large this knife is. There is a small forward finger choil giving you extra options, but I find it to be a little tight relative to other knives with finger choils that I own. I’ve used it, but would advise against getting too aggressive with this finger choil. Good jimping is found on the thumb ramp, flipper tab, and backspacer. Although it lacks corrugated G-10, this isn’t a slippery knife by any means.

The pocket clip is made of milled titanium. Milled clips have done a bit of an 180 over the past few years. When they originally came out they were the bee’s knees. Then they sort of fell out of favor when people found them to be less effective than traditional stamped steel clips. I still like a milled clip if it’s done right.

I’d say the clip on this Sigil is pretty good. It is snug up against the handle and has some spring tension. It’s not crazy spring tension, and I wouldn’t recommend jumping out of an airplane with the Sigil clipped to your pocket, but there is spring tension and the knife is held in place in your pocket. The hidden hardware aspect of it is awesome, and the machining is top notch.

The Sigil carries about how I would expect. It’s a large full titanium folder. Not a total boat anchor, but you feel its presence in your pocket.

Deployment and Lockup

The Sigil is a flipper on bearings. Flipping action is excellent. The generously jimped flipper, strong detent, and smooth bearing system scores the action of this knife a solid “8” on my somewhat arbitrary 1-10 scale for flippers. Better than average, but not a rocket launcher. In addition to the flipper there is an elongated thumb hole. It’s fully functional and you can open up the blade with the thumb hole if you want to be more subtle.

For lockup we have a titanium framelock with stainless steel lockbar insert. The engineering wizards at Miroctech did a fine job designing this frame lock. It is totally secure, with no blade play to speak of, yet the lock is easy to disengage. This is thanks to good lock geometry, and excellent milling on the portion of the lockbar where your thumb goes to release the lock.

As I mentioned previously, there is a copper pivot collar that doubles as a lock bar stabilizer. A nice touch and the only splash of color on an otherwise grey knife.

It’s a little longer than the Para 2, but you get a lot more blade. Speaking of which, blade centering is perfect on my knife.

Microtech Sigil MK6 Review – Final Thoughts

The Sigil is an impressive knife. Microtech’s styling may not be to everyone’s taste, and this is a bigger knife, but you can’t argue that the Sigil has been beautifully executed with top shelf materials.

Almost every bell and whistle you could ask for is included. A milled clip, milled out handles, floating back spacer, hidden hardware, top shelf blade steel, and tons of machining. Fit and finish is outstanding. And this knife is made in the USA.

My only gripe is that the body screws come loose and they don’t supply the tool to tighten them.

This isn’t an inexpensive knife, but for just under $400 I think you get what you pay for. It’s almost on par with my old Shirogorov 95t, and that knife clocks in at 200%+ of the cost. Any interesting comparison is with a Sebenza.

While this is far from being an everyman’s EDC, I think those whose interests are piqued by the concept of the Sigil will be happy with this knife. It exceeded my expectations, and it makes me want to review more Microtechs in the future. Speaking of which, I really like the Sebastian Benja designed Stitch. I think that will be my next acquisition.

I know the Sigil is not a knife for everyone, so I won’t give it a blanket endorsement. But I give it 2 thumbs up if you are already in the market for this knife.

I recommend purchasing the Microtech Sigil at BladeHQ. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website (including Amazon) helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

I don’t have any photographs worth mentioning. I do have a few selfies with some knifemakers, a few shots of their tables, but nothing to write home about. The original plan meant leaving my car alone in a major city for several hours, I thought it prudent to minimize the risk of theft, and so I left my camera at home.

The sale itself was early December, so this isn’t exactly breaking news. I intended to write this up earlier, but c’est la vie….

I’m not going to give away any names, whether it’s that of a business or an individual. Two reasons: one, I’m terrible with names, and the circumstances of the trip didn’t help that; two, I don’t feel comfortable using this platform for negative publicity. If you’d like the names (for your own trip planning), email me at bibliophile15@gmail.com, and I’ll hook you up.

I have done my best to avoid exaggerations of any kind.

I don’t think I need to explain the allure of Triple Aught Design to those of you that read this site on a regular basis. Some may balk at the price, sure, but once you strip away all the cheesy “executive protection” marketing, you’re left with clothing that seems uniquely suited to gear geeks. Plenty of pockets, reinforced fabric at high wear spots, and a technical look that isn’t tactical, but isn’t outdoors-ey either. If you care about TAD much at all, you’ve probably also heard about the annual Dogpatch Warehouse Sale. This sale is legendary to fans of the company, and I’d wanted to go ever since I knew it existed. Not only do they drastically drop their (admittedly exorbitant) prices, but they also clear out old prototypes, hard goods that aren’t quite up to scratch, and invite knifemakers to swing by and hock their wares.

So when I found out that I had that weekend off this year, I jumped at the chance. It was the perfect opportunity to get out of town for awhile, which I sorely needed after the slog that was harvest season. Furthermore – and this is embarrassing to admit – I’ve lived in California my entire life, and never once visited the Bay Area. For what it’s worth, I was spending my time in Yosemite, Sequoia, and pretty much anywhere else there was a lot of nature and not a whole lot of people. Anyhoo.

My girlfriend loved the idea, and we decided to make a little event of it. Some of our more grandiose plans were kiboshed by a glance at the hotel prices. To give you a sense of perspective, one night at a Motel 6 would have set us back $130. I’ve booked hotel rooms in San Diego during Comic-Con – last minute, no less – for half that. We eventually decided to spend Friday and Saturday night at Anthony Chabot Regional Park. It looked pleasant, had good reviews, and cost less than $20 a night. Sure it was out of the way, but we planned to drive to the nearest BART station and take the train in anyway, so we didn’t mind.

You’ve humored me so far, and I appreciate that. To tide you over to the actual gear content, here are some notes on the actual stuff I brought along:

Knife: Viper Dan 2 in burgundy micarta. I wanted something that was easy to carry, wouldn’t frighten anyone, and wouldn’t look out of place next to the hoards of Dauntless’s I expected to see.

Torch: Zebralight H52w. I know, I know, it’s an older light at this point. In its defense, the H52w produces more light than I’m ever likely to need and serves double duty as a headlamp (which is extremely valuable while setting up a campsite).

Pen: Tactile Turn Slider in titanium. Did I need a pen? Not really; but I’ve gotten into the habit and it was easy enough to slip into the pen pocket in my jacket.

Bag: Tom Bihn Synapse 25. It’s been my go-to travel bag since I bought it three or four years ago.

Fidget Toy: Aroundsquare Titan Begleri. Do I feel like a bit of a tool including this? Yes. Yes I do. However, it kept my hands away from my phone, my knife, and my pen while I was driving. That’s a pretty valuable asset for someone as compulsive as I am.

I won’t bore you with the details of the drive. It was pleasant enough, as long drives go. San Jose was pleasant, and catching dinner with a good friend from my old graduate program was a great start to the trip. The food was good, and due to the combination of odd sizing nomenclature and a respectable beer list, I was able to order – dead serious – a goblet of Dragon’s Milk. The waitstaff did not appreciate my insistence on repeating the order back to me.

After the food and beer had settled, we ended up departing San Jose a little later than we would have liked, but not so late that we were worried. The campsite we were to stay at closed in an hour, but we were only 45 minutes away.

Cue Murphy’s Law.

We made two mistakes, both fairly small. The first mistake was missing the turn off for Castro Valley, which ended up costing us 5 minutes. That alone would not have undone us, but for the second mistake. The second mistake was placing trust in the navigation system on our phones. You see, it turns out that this magnificent technology calculated the travel time to the borders of the park, not (as logic would suggest) the actual entrance. Even accounting for those mistakes, we made it to the gate five minutes before they were supposed to close.

The gate was closed.

Now, it had been a long day, and a long night besides, so forgive us for not doing the logical thing: pulling over, setting up our sleeping bags in the back of the car, and waking up before anyone could give us grief over it. That would have made sense.

No, instead we drove back down to Castro Valley and started looking for the cheapest hotels we could find. Between the drive back to Castro Valley and the hunt online for a deal, we ended up burning another 45 minutes before finding a hotel. In retrospect, a hotel that cost $65 a night in downtown San Francisco should have been a warning in and of itself, but like I said earlier: we weren’t thinking clearly.

We did find out why Motel 6 was $130 a night: they have their own parking garage, and it turns out that we would have gladly paid the premium if we had known how sparse parking in the city would be. I thought parking in Dublin was a madhouse, but San Francisco takes the cake. The closest open parking garage was two miles away from our hotel. We didn’t care. At that point, all we wanted was sleep, two miles or no.

Those two miles should have been committed to film. In the span of that walk, we went from upscale hotels, department stores, and banks (all done up to the nines for Christmas) to liquor stores, corner markets, and a sea of barred windows. Now, I’m not exactly a starry eyed small town guy seeing the big city for the first time. I’ve been in plenty of nasty areas throughout California. But I have never walked within a few feet of three individuals smoking a crack pipe. To be fair, the one with the pipe waved and gave us a smile.

Funnily enough, our hotel turned out to be on the same block as that little soiree. We almost went back to the car, as we couldn’t find the damn place. After scanning our surroundings for the third time, we noticed a sign behind a very large, very imposing security gate: lo and behold, it matched the sign that we saw online. They must have taken the picture before the gate was installed. Simple mistake.

After being helped inside and given directions to the manager’s room by a guy who was legitimately friendly enough to put our minds at ease, we began to take stock of the interior. In its heyday, it must have been pretty attractive: white paint with gold accents, floral elements in the moulding. I’d imagine the original tenants were quite happy with it. However, do you know what those same accents look like at midnight? Like the interior of the Overlook Hotel.

The manager did little to quell our anxiety. Not on a personal level, mind: he was more than affable enough. He was obviously stoned, so that may have had something to do with it. No, he was – and I don’t mean this in an unkind way – odd. His face wasn’t old, yet he had a full head of shock white hair. Very few wrinkles, yet skin that was nearly translucent. In other words, he looked as if he had seen a ghost or been struck by lightning. The most curious aspect of his appearance, however, was his left arm, which was inflated, just as if someone had taken a bicycle pump to it.

The rational part of my mind was intrigued, but not put off by this. It’s obvious he had a medical condition of some sort (for the arm if nothing else) and it would be unkind to judge him for it. So we took our room key and headed up the stairs, grateful for the chance to sleep.

The room was likewise odd. Very clean, and it did have a few amenities, such as a sink and a microwave. There were problems. The hole in the window let in city noise, and the shutters couldn’t cover enough of the window to block out the nearby street lights. We were also fairly certain the beds would glow in the presence of a blacklight. But we put these considerations (and our belongings) aside and headed down the hall to the restrooms.

Gentleman that I am, I let Beth use the facilities first. As I leaned back against the wall, I noticed something: under the unflattering fluorescent lighting, the distinct red of pooled blood stood out against the tile. The pool of blood wasn’t large; the circumference of a grapefruit at best. There was a fair amount of splattered blood around that small puddle though; droplets scattered around the puddle about a foot in all directions, with more crawling up the corner of the doorway the little pool was in front of. I was pondering the implications of that when Beth opened the door, noticed what I was staring at, and promptly asked to leave.

My first reaction was to rationalize what I was looking at. We had just walked past the restrooms on the way to our room, and the blood wasn’t present then. Our door hardly shut, so if someone had been assaulted, I’m fairly positive we would have heard it. Odds were that something unpleasant had happened. Not criminal, but certainly nasty.

It was at that point that I realized that I was making the same rationalizations that got the first couple killed in every horror movie. As silly as it sounds, that realization immediately put me in the “we need to leave” camp. Between the creepy hotel, the otherworldly manager, and the bleeding door, it seemed the universe was giving us some strong clues. I always said I would never make the same mistakes that those morons on screen did. This – rational or not – was my put up or shut up moment. So we left. The manager was shown the bloody door, and his lack of a reaction was disquieting in its own right. Walking back to the car was miserable, and by the time we arrived we were too tired to think of other options, much less drive to them. At that point, we did what we should have done at the park gate three hours ago: clambered into the back of the car, and crashed for the night.

That’s how two out of towners spent their first night in San Francisco.

After sleeping for all of four hours, we dragged ourselves out of the car before anyone – barring one woman who gave my SUV the stink eye – noticed that we were there. There was a Starbucks down the street, and we availed ourselves of their facilities to freshen up as best we could. We grabbed two coffees and a pair of breakfast sandwiches, and drove to Dogpatch.

Pulling into Dogpatch was almost surreal. The neighborhood was friendly, the houses were colorful, and the lack of crack pipes was a definite plus. We managed to park fairly close to the address our phones listed and started off on foot.

The Dogpatch Warehouse was easy to find; the line of people wrapping around the building gave it away. It was certainly a diverse cast. There were plenty of “operators” and hipsters, to be sure, but most people didn’t really stand out (and I don’t mean that as an insult). Once the TAD crew opened the doors, the line moved quickly; I assume those ahead of us sprinted to the jackets.

Fortune favored me, as my mission was far less ambitious. All I wanted was to build a stash of their Doomsday Canvas clothing. Before you ask, no, I’m not a Doomsday Prepper, and if I worked in an office I wouldn’t bother with them. For me, they’re a work requirement. At times, my job requires that I wear fire resistant clothing – pretty standard for work in the oil fields. The problem is that most FR clothing is hot garbage. They’re bulky, wear out at a surprising rate, and the pockets (with a few exceptions) barely qualify as such. The Doomsday Canvas line from TAD fixes those issues, and the chance to load up on it on the cheap was irresistible. For all you TADdicts out there, yes, it truly is cheap: I paid less than half of the listed price across the board.

It bears mention that the folks at the sale were great. I’m not talking about the staff (though they were of a similar ilk), but the other people at the sale. We had a little corner in the back where we guarded our findings until we could try them on.

Sadly, that meant that my budget for hard goods was non-existent. That was really disappointing, as the Dauntless Mk.IV has been a grail knife of mine since its debut. The discounts on hard goods were nowhere near as extensive as those offered on the clothing, and most would see that as a downside. Me? I didn’t mind. Higher prices kept me from being very irresponsible with my money, and in the long run I was still irresponsible later on it paid out.

Sadly, that meant that I was consigned to the dreaded role of “lookie-loo,” which doesn’t feel quite right when you have custom makers right in front of you. The turnout was impressive for a relatively small venue. Serge Panchenko, Joseph Bowen, Ban Tang, and an assortment of Beggs were all present. I’ll admit that (aside from the hard goods table of TAD gear) I spent most of my time at Serge Panchenko’s table, then Joseph Bowen’s, with a bit of time split between Ban Tang and the Begg clan. All of it was really cool to see.

Eventually, Beth and I made our way back to the car. The sale was fun and fast-paced, but didn’t have the “Black Friday” feel I was worried it would. I walked off with an armful of new and improved work attire, and Beth scored a sweet little technical hoodie. We had most of the day left, and intended to drive around and see the sights.

It’s at this point that I should mention that I don’t handle big city traffic gracefully. Stop and go is fine, I can be patient; but there’s a frenetic quality to driving in large cities that puts me on edge. Much to my regret, the only person I could vent to (or at) was Beth, who didn’t deserve it. Don’t feel too bad for her though. She got her revenge by tricking me into taking Lombard Street. If you haven’t seen it, look it up. Then imagine someone driving it in a 1999 Ford Explorer, which was famous for – guess what – rollovers. The pedestrians were looking at us with a mixture of concern, amusement, and pity.

Apart from the driving, the city was quite pleasant. We drove over the Golden Gate Bridge, though that was overshadowed by an out of the way restaurant called “Kingdom of Dumpling.” Those are still the best dumplings we’ve ever had. We cut the day short, though, as the previous night and the day’s driving had the both of us ready to drop. Neither of us wanted to risk a repeat of the prior night, either, so we made our way back to Castro Valley late that afternoon.

The dumplings had worn off by that point, so we were happy to stop at a little place called Cafe Rumi on the way there. It was billed as a coffee shop that offered Mediterranean food, and both of us thought the prospect sounded pretty good. We ordered a gyro, a kebab plate, some princess cake, and two Turkish coffees. The food was fine. As for the coffee, well, it needs a bit of context.

For those not in the know, Turkish coffee is delicious. It’s strong, sweet, and rich. I’d only had it once prior, at a family restaurant in Los Angeles. It was served in a small cup, so I took the daintiest sips I could so as to prolong the experience. I drank it more carefully than I do my favorite whiskey (Knappogue Castle). The chance to unwind with another cup – especially considering the last day and a half – sounded perfect.

I don’t know what we were served, but it wasn’t Turkish coffee. We strongly suspect we were charged $8 for glorified espresso shots. I’ve had more since: the stuff at Rumi’s is definitely an anomaly. We were too tired to make a fuss, so we ate in silence and left. A local Scout troop was selling Christmas trees in the parking lot, so I decided to ask around and see if anyone knew what the campground we were headed to was like. According to all reports, it was nice enough.

We made it with hours to spare this time, and managed to find a pretty sweet campsite near the park restrooms. It only took a few minutes to convert the rear of my Explorer into a makeshift bed, and afterwards I walked the 30 or so feet to the restrooms to make use of them. Now, to get to the men’s restrooms, you have to walk by the facility showers. Each shower is located in a small room with a door, not a stall or something of that ilk. As I walked past them, I noticed two or three people hanging out in one. They weren’t using the facilities, and all of them were fully clothed, but nature was calling and I wasn’t in the mood to ask questions. I found a bathroom stall and started to avail myself of the facilities.

It was then (pants around my ankles) that I heard footsteps, soon followed by voices. Someone had apparently joined the little shower soiree, and judging from their tone wasn’t thrilled about it. I couldn’t make out much, but phrases like “you were supposed to bring the stuff,” “not this again,” and “going to beat your ass” stand out in my memory. The growing agitation in their voices urged me to hurry, albeit quietly. By the time I made it back to the car, I could hear dull smacking sounds, as well as what sounded like sobs.

Of course, Beth was in the car and quite cozy when I walked up and told her we might have a problem. Instead of explaining, I just opened the door so she could listen in.

Ten minutes later, we had a spot on the opposite end of the park while rangers were checking out the bathrooms for any oddities. Were we chicken? Sure, but at least we slept well that night. In fact, from that point on the trip was entirely uneventful.

I have a small confession to make. Though my articles may not reflect this, I have a crippling addiction to Great Eastern Cutlery knives. For every modern knife in my collection, there’s a traditional knife (often in matching or complimentary colors), and I fear it won’t be long before the old timers actually outnumber the fresh blood. The latest addition to my little menagerie is the Great Eastern Cutlery #66 “Calf Roper” in olive drab canvas micarta. It’s far from perfect, but at the same time it’s often the first traditional knife I reach for before leaving for work.

You may be asking yourself why I don’t review Great Eastern Cutlery products more often. The problem with reviewing their knives is twofold: one, they sell out quickly, and two, all of their knives are produced in batches. If a run of their knives is sold out, it may be years before they make another version; even if they do, there’s no guarantee that they’ll use the same blade configuration or handle materials. So before we get into the meat of the review, a word of advice: if you’re interested in it, go buy it. You can finish the review afterwards.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The Great Eastern Cutlery #66 “Calf Roper” weighs 2.57 ounces and measures at a hair under 3.5 inches in the closed position. This particular version of the #66 has three blades: a clip point blade 2.5 inches long, a sheepsfoot blade 1.9 inches long, and a spey blade 1.8 inches long. If the #66 had just a single blade and weighed this much, it’d just be average, but as it packs three blades into the frame it’s nothing short of fantastic.

Of course, if those blades never get used, they might as well not be there. The clip point is the easiest to justify: it’s popular on single and multi bladed traditional knives alike. It offers plenty of straight edge for push cuts, but has enough belly to be the all-star of a picnic lunch. Consider it your go-to blade for most tasks. The utility of the sheepsfoot blade is similarly obvious: a short, straight edged blade is perfect for opening packages and breaking down boxes. Really, the only inclusion that I haven’t found an explicit use for is the spey blade. It’s fine as a pen blade, but otherwise is just a holdover from days when animal husbandry and horticulture was more common.

I’m a junkie for thin grinds, and the Calf Roper delivers that in spades. All three blades start as thin stock and are brought down to a fine working edge. The grinds are clean and even, though the cutting bevel itself is pretty narrow. While I don’t have any complaints, apparently enough people do that there’s a robust market for reground GEC knives.

The #66 features 1095 steel on all three of its blades. 1095 has been a staple of American cutlery since the early 1900s, though now it’s seen primarily on traditional pocket knives and large fixed blades. It’s a carbon steel, so without care it will rust, but there are steps that can ward that eventuality off. You can clean the blade off after use and keep it well oiled; or (my preferred method), you can use your knife on a lot of fruit and produce and let it build up a protective patina.

Edge retention on the #66 is passable. Great Eastern runs their 1095 at a Rockwell hardness of 57-59, which is a bit harder than the steel on Victorinox (Swiss Army) knives. In practical terms, this means that any blade getting regular use should be touched up on a leather strop two or three times a week. If pressed into work cutting cardboard or other abrasive media, more care will be required.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Carry

The #66 “Calf Roper” is listed as a Serpentine Jack; to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why. Given the blade configuration, most companies would list the #66 as a Stockman variant. My suspicion is that A.G. Russell cornered the market on the “Serpentine Stockman” quite awhile ago…but that’s just speculation. Regardless of the nomenclature, the handle is pleasantly simple. It’s a simple cigar shape with a subtle curve. Nickel silver bolsters pair well with the brass liners, both of which are given a brushed finish. A plain oval shield ties it all together. As this is Great Eastern, it should go without saying, but the handle is immaculately constructed. Using my fingernail, I can hardly tell where the bolster ends and the micarta begins.

If you follow me on social media or have read past articles of mine, you might have guessed that I have a small fixation with micarta. It is – bar none – my favorite handle material. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s light, strong, grippy, and has an organic quality rarely found in G10. The olive drab micarta on the #66 is perfectly implemented, left just rough enough to have some texture, but still smooth enough to not feel out of place on a traditional knife. Of course, if micarta isn’t your thing, the #66 is also available in ebony, acrylic, stag, and two variants of jigged bone.

Sadly, the ergonomics aren’t as good as the handle would suggest. While the handle shape is great, the sheepsfoot blade adds a sharp hump right where your fingers go if you’re using the clip point or the spey blade. Neither of those blades causes a similar problem when the sheepsfoot blade is in use. It’s not a crippling issue; you’d have to be gripping the handle pretty tightly to generate real discomfort. All the same, I can’t help but wonder how much better the #66 would be if the spey blade was removed so the sheepsfoot blade could ride lower in the handle.

At a closed length of 3.5 inches, the #66 is one of the most pocketable knives produced by Great Eastern Cutlery. Between the serpentine handle shape, the generously chamfered edges, and the modest size, it’s easy to carry the #66 however you’d like. It’s a touch large for smaller coin pockets, but only just. I carry mine in a leather slip, as I do with most of my traditional knives. A slip distributes the weight more evenly, and prevents the knife from rolling to the bottom of your pocket and generating discomfort. Is it necessary? No, but I’d recommend giving one a shot if you haven’t already.

Deployment and Walk and Talk

There’s no two ways about it: compared to modern folding knives, any traditional knife is going to be less convenient to pull out and use. Before I can actually use my knife, I have to pull the slip out of my pocket, pull the knife out of the slip, put the slip down (or back in my pocket), and then use two hands to open whichever blade I need. In the office or around the house, those extra steps aren’t an issue. When I’m in the field, I want quick, convenient access to a blade that I know won’t close on my fingers if I torque it in a weird way. I still carry a traditional at work, but only so I have a knife on me that I know won’t frighten anyone.

There’s no grit in the action, and the blades snap crisply into place, whether in the open or closed position. None of the blades have any side-to-side play or worrisome wiggle. The pull on the clip blade is about as strong as it is on a Swiss Army Knife, while the spey and sheepsfoot blades only need about half as much effort to open and close. A half stop would be a welcome addition, but isn’t a necessity.

Great Eastern Cutlery #66 “Calf Roper” – Final Thoughts

Even accounting for the vestigial spey blade, the funky ergonomics, and the lack of a half stop, the Great Eastern Cutlery #66 is a personal favorite of mine. It’s handy, pocketable, and beautifully finished, with subtle touches of modernity that grant it a timeless appeal. The only competition that comes to mind is the aforementioned A.G. Russell Serpentine Stockman, but I don’t know if that comparison is entirely fair. The Serpentine Stockman is a fine knife – I owned one – but it’s larger and made with cheaper materials. Between the two, I’d pick the #66 every time.

If traditionals don’t interest you, I don’t know if this should be your first. Single bladed traditionals are often a better way to test the waters. That said, once this run is sold, it’s unclear when Great Eastern will produce another run of the #66. If you like the design, or even think you might like the design, pick one up. They’re easy to sell on the secondary market should you be disappointed. Clearly, I’m not.

I recommend purchasing the Calf Roper (and any of its derivatives) at KniveShipFree. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

By the time this review is published SHOT Show 2017 will be old news. But as I write this introduction, the releases from SHOT are still fresh in my mind. After perusing everyone’s catalogs, I’ve noticed something; something that I’ve been waiting to see for some time. You see, it appears that the knife industry has finally realized that not everyone wants to (or is capable of) buying knives that cost upwards of $200 at a sustainable rate. Well…part of the industry at least.

There was a bevy of budget and mid-priced blades released at SHOT, and one of the more impressive showings was put forward by CRKT. Apart from undercutting the Snailor market, they also expanded their collaborations with Jesper Voxnaes, who designed a few knives for them last year. The 2016models didn’t seem to grab the attention of the knife community. I’d venture that the reason why is that they lacked Vox’s typical design language: bold lines, dramatic edge profiles, and a quintessentially Nordic minimalism.

Happily for us, it looks like CRKT realized the amount of money they were sitting on and tapped Mr. Voxnaes for some of that Danish magic. While most of these collaborations are enticing for one reason or another, I eventually ordered the Compact Batum. After more than a month of on and off carry, I think I’ve got enough experience to offer my opinion.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The Batum has a blade length of 2.45”, a closed length of 3.71”, and weighs 3.6 ounces. The Batum is made in China. These are some pretty middle of the road performance specs, but it’s a big step up from the relatively chunky specifications on the Squid. By comparison, the Batum has a longer blade and a more comfortable handle for nearly the same weight. Fit and finish is likewise improved: centering is perfect, primary grind is symmetrical, and everything is nice and polished. The only “real” complaint I can register is that the secondary bevel gets a bit wobbly near the tip. Not bad for a sub-$30 blade.

I’m working on a standardized cutting test, but until then, you’ll have to rely on my ad hoc testing. That means two (incredibly unscientific) tests: one for edge retention and one for slicing performance. I don’t test rust resistance or chipping: not because they’re unimportant, but because those faults – if present – are typically revealed without any help. To measure slicing performance, I used the Batum on a diverse array of fruit, including apples, pears, and oranges. It quartered the pears just fine and peeled the oranges with ease. The Batum split – not sliced – the apples, but to be fair they were large and crisp. Ideal for eating, not cutting.

During normal use, the 8Cr13MoV held up fine. It’s the budget steel of choice for Chinese made knives, and I wasn’t surprised to see it featured on the Batum. I strop it twice a week or so and that’s kept it serviceable. The only opportunity I had to “rigorously” test the edge retention was using the Batum to break down a pile of cardboard boxes destined for the bin, during which it exhibited odd behavior. After a few boxes, it wouldn’t cut as cleanly, but when I checked the edge against my thumb it was still passably sharp. The Batum just kept slipping out during protracted cuts. It’s likely a combination of the dramatic belly and budget steel. As soon as the edge starts to degrade, the blade will start to slide more in cuts. This in turn means you’ll glance onto that steep belly and slip right out of the material.

That’s not to say I dislike the blade shape. While the belly is too dramatic for my tastes, it does occasionally come in handy. On a cutting board, it allows for great slicing cuts, much like the front end of the Spyderco Zulu. A buddy of mine who’s an electrician also swears by the Vox blade shape, as he loves the straight edge for cable work.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Carry

I was on the fence about reviewing the Batum; originally, it was a toss up between it and the Pilar. Both looked interesting, but in the end the G10 scale of the Batum was the more attractive proposition, as the G10 substantially decreases the weight and improves the grip. Still, I had concerns. On cheaper knives finishing is often the first thing to go, and if the G10 was as raspy as, say, Cold Steel’s, I’d be put out to say the least. Luckily that wasn’t the case. Out of the box I was impressed by the fit and finish on the Batum. The G10 was perfectly textured: not rough enough to feel like sandpaper, but just enough to register a grip. Both the steel and the G10 scales are generously chamfered. Even the backspacer – one of my complaints from the CRKT Squid review – is perfect. Not only is the machining improved, but the dark grey doesn’t have the “off-white next to regular white” look that the Squid’s backspacer had.

The ergonomics on the Batum are tough to evaluate. When it first arrived, I noticed within seconds that the forward finger choil was too small for my hands. I couldn’t choke up on the blade without feeling like the knife was about to bite me. So – as shipped – the ergonomics were poor to say the least. Fortunately I have a set of diamond stones for my Spyderco Sharpmaker, and after a day or two of intermittent filing, the choil was big enough to accommodate a four finger grip. It was relatively easy fix, but buyer beware.

In the pocket, the Batum is an excellent companion. It carries quietly, and even though it doesn’t have a deep carry clip, it doesn’t leave enough of the butt end hanging out to alarm the masses. The clip seems like it could be a real paint scraper. I haven’t run into that issue personally, but that may just be luck.

Deployment and Lock-Up

For deployment, the Batum features Vox’s signature thumb…eye…thing. Folks online seem to love it; a deranged few like it more than the Spydie-hole. It’s arguable that it offers the ease of deployment that a thumbhole does without the larger footprint in the pocket, but I find the thumbhole easier to use most of the time. Mastering deployment on the Batum took all of a day on my end, so it’s probably not a major issue for most users. The teflon washers give deployment a slightly hydraulic feel. My only complaint is that the bit of the handle that covers the tang also blocks the path my thumb follows when I’m flicking the knife open. It’s less of an issue now, but you may need to spend some time getting acquainted with the Batum’s deployment.

I’m really tempted to just copy and paste the lock-up section from the Squid review. Nothing is really different here: lock up is stable at 50%, there’s no blade play in any direction, and there’s no lock stick. Disengagement is simple despite the lack of a cut out to access the lock. There is one improvement – if a negligible one – over the frame lock on the Squid, and that is the addition of an overtravel stop. Is it necessary? Probably not, but some will appreciate it, and there’s no real downside to its inclusion.

CRKT Compact Batum Review – Final Thoughts

For the money, it’s difficult to find a more compelling knife. There’s the perennial Alox Cadet, of course, but that’s hitting a slightly different need. You can find the Batum for around $30 after shipping, and I think it’s a steal at that price. It’s better finished than the Cryos that I’ve handled, the design is (in my opinion) much more attractive, and you don’t have to deal with an assisted opening. The ergonomics – once adjusted – are better than most knives in this price range. It may be a bit chunky behind the edge, but no worse than the Squid.

Knowing all that, who should buy the Batum? Well, fans of Jesper Voxnaes should probably line up. This knife has most of the design cues Vox is famous for: burlesque drop point, simple lines, and an open profile that’s strangely animated. While not perfect – the drop point is a tad overdone, and the choil may need tweaking – it’s one of the strongest budget knives to hit the market in quite some time.

I recommend purchasing the CRKT Batum Compact at Amazon or BladeHQ. Please consider that purchasing anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

I have recently seen a resurgence of interest in classic slipjoint knives. Maybe folks are getting tired of shelling out $200+ for the latest framelock flipper. Or maybe they like the idea of carrying something their grandpa may have carried. Who knows for sure.

Personally I know over the past couple years my carry tastes have trended toward the traditional. I still enjoy the latest and greatest, but 2 of my favorite EDC folders in recent memory have been the Victorinox Cadet and Chris Reeve Mnandi. I loved the slim utility of the Cadet, and the leather ensconced classiness of the Mnandi. They are such excellent knives for my basic daily purposes.

Then reading Tony’s review of the Indian River Jack piqued my interest in GEC knives. I view some of these GEC slip joints as almost a cross between a Cadet and Mnandi: simple tools matched with higher end materials and finishes.

So today’s review is of the GEC Viper. Or the #47 as some call it. I don’t know what it is exactly about the classic swayback slip joint pattern, but I really dig these traditional wharncliffes. The Viper is a newer model, and it’s garnered a fair amount of enthusiasm amongst the traditional knife crowd, so I figured it would be a nice model to acquire for review.

I don’t proclaim to be an expert on these traditional knives. Heck I’m not an expert on knives at all (just ask Kershaw Thomas). But I enjoy cutlery and will do my best to share my opinion of this fine folder from Great Eastern Cutlery.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The Viper has an overall length of 6.81″, a 3″ blade, and it weighs 2.7 ounces. I must not have researched this knife very carefully because when it arrived in it’s cardboard tube I was surprised at how big it was. This is a good size slippie, especially when compared to something like a Cadet. I grew to enjoy the size of the 47. After all, it was originally designed to be a working knife. It is also fine as a suburban EDC.

The Viper comes with a beautiful 1095 carbon steel warncliff blade. Mine has a high flat grind and swedge. The edge is very fine. It’s more of a microbevel than anything. The high carbon steel has been given almost a mirror polish. It looks good and I imagine it helps cut down on rust and corrosion. 1095 is not a stainless steel, and I have had it rust on a few of my fixed blades. By giving the blade a polish there is actually less surface area for rust.

But the cool thing is that the polished 1095 will patina. On my Sod Buster JR I decided to play around with a “forced” patina by slathering the blade in mustard. With the Viper I want the patina to form naturally, so I’ve just been using the knife as I normally would, and resisting the urge to dip it in a vat of honey dijon. So far the results have been cool. I like the character it has developed over the past couple months, and look forward to seeing how things progress.

One small complaint is the amount of branding that GEC etches onto the blade. In my pictures the etching has faded, but from the factory it comes with a very overt “NORTHFIELD UN-X-LD” logo smack dab in the middle of the beautiful blade. Yeah… no thanks. Mercifully, most of the logo rubbed off after an application of Barkeeper’s Friend, a cleaning product that should consider sponsoring the website given how much I talk about it.

The 1095 isn’t just good to look at. The blade of my Viper has been given a super keen edge, and the cutting performance has been really nice. The blade easily tracks through paper, and I’ve also used the knife for mild food prep, opening packages, etc. But the other weekend I really put the knife through it’s paces. I was tasked with cutting up a large quantity of cardboard with drywall joint compound on it that wouldn’t fit into a trash can. These slip joints are usually ground thin, and the Viper is no exception. It is a keen slicer and made easy work of the cardboard. At the end of the the edge had slowed down a little, but 1095 is very easy to touch up on a strop or corner of my Spyderco Sharpmaker.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Carry

GEC offers the Viper in a variety of handle configurations. Mine is bolstered with Che Chen Rosewood scales over brass liners. This is my first knife with rosewood. It’s a beautiful wood and I have seen it on many high end guitars. I love the fine cord-like grain and deep shimmering quality of the wood when you hold it up to the light. The handle has been beautifully finished. The edges are nicely chamferred, there are no gaps in the liner or backspring, the pins and lanyard tube are meticulously sanded down, and the silver medallion inset into the handle is flawless. When you turn the knife over to examine the back of the handle there is no gap or bump in between the back spring and spine of the blade. It’s a really nice and well made handle.

In hand the Viper feels like a spacious work knife should. Don’t let the wood handles fool you: this is still a high performance tool. Back before the days of titanium, G10 and stainless steel, these were the kinds of knives folks used every day. Working with the Viper you can understand why these kinds of handles have stood the test of time. They are basic and comfortable. You can definitely whittle some sticks, cut cardboard, or handle most other daily tasks with ease.

The Viper is without a pocket clip, but it came with a leather slip sheath. I enjoyed using a slip sheath with my Mnandi, and use a slip sheath with my Fantoni Dweller as well. This sheath is wider and thicker than I’m used to, but it’s sturdy and feels good in the pocket. I like this kind of carry – especially when working in an office. If the sheath is too bulky you could always throw the knife directly into your pocket.

Deployment and Lockup

I should probably change this section to “Walk and Talk” to fall more in line with the idiosyncrasies of traditional folders. After all, this is a slip joint with a nail nick. The knife doesn’t “deploy” and there is no lock up. The nail nick is easy to get at, and the backspring on the slip joint is surprisingly strong. This is a purposeful two handed opening knife. There is a dedicated half stop, and the backspring is almost flush at the half stop.

When closing the knife you need to use some level of care due to the strong back spring. There is a half stop, but if you aren’t careful there is still room for the meat of your finger to get pinched in between the ricasso and handle. The slip joint is sturdy and reassuring, and inspired enough confidence for me to take on tougher jobs. The spring itself is tempered high carbon steel. Still, you need to use some care when working with a knife like this. It’s not a locking folder, and it sure as heck isn’t a fixed blade. Make sure you are using the right tool for the job.

GEC Viper Final Thoughts

The Viper has been a wonderful introduction to higher end US made slip joint knives. I really like the look of single bladed slip joints, and traditional wharnies, so it was easy to pick this one out of the GEC lineup when thinking of my first knife.

That said, I was still surprised at how much I have enjoyed the 47. This is a larger folder, but it is still innocuous enough to bring to work. It carries well, cuts cleanly, and is satisfying to open and use. The materials are great, the fit and finish are on point, and the price is reasonable. The knife is also made in the USA. At the end of the day I have an extremely hard time finding any kind of fault with the Viper. I could do without the lanyard hole, but I see why they included it. I am also not a huge fan of the amount of branding GEC etched onto the blade. Thankfully, that faded with cleaning. Beyond that I have no complaints.

I highly recommend the Viper if you are looking for a traditional folder or just an excellent EDC.

I recommend purchasing the Viper at KniveShipFree. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Emerson is one of the most American knife companies I can think of. Their blades are 100% made in the USA with American made materials, and when you thumb through one of their catalogs (or the pages of their website) you really get the feeling that these knives are distinctly American. There are plenty of references to the US Military, MMA, and hard rock – to the point where you can practically feel the bald eagles whooshing over your head.

So when you take a company like Emerson Knives and combine it with the iconic American bowie you get what is arguably the most patriotic production knife on the planet: the Emerson CQC-13 Combat Bowie.

General Dimensions and Blade Details

The CQC-13 has an overall length of 9″, a 3.85″ blade, and it weighs 5 ounces. Like most of Emerson’s offerings this is a pretty big knife. Designed for military, police, and anyone else seeking a large and rugged tool, this is a no-nonsense tactical folder. Personally I tend to pair it with a smaller utility knife.

The blade is what really drew me to the CQC-13, which makes sense because Emerson’s knives all follow a similar formula. Besides different blade and handle shapes, they are all built pretty much the same. Here we have a mean clip point cut from thick stock with a needle sharp tip, a good amount of belly, and a partial flat grind. My preference is for the stonewashed version, but Emerson also makes them in a black coated and matte finished (shown here) versions as well. Like many Emersons this knife is V ground, but the edge features a chisel grind (ground on one side instead of both like most normal knives). According to Emerson this is done for ease of sharpening in the field.

Like every other Emerson knife on the market the CQC-13’s blade comes in 154CM stainless steel. The steel is heat treated to 57-59 HRC, which makes the knife easy to sharpen yet capable of holding a nice edge. 154 won’t retain an edge as long as some of the more exotic steels on the market, but it is a proven steel and remains an all-around good choice.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

In the handle department the CQC-13 continues to follow the typical Emerson format: roughly textured black G10 scales, a partial G10 backspacer, a steel liner, and a titanium locking liner. There is a lanyard hole and all the screws are phillips head (except for the flat head pivot screw). Emerson isn’t known for making the prettiest knives, but I am actually quite impressed with how well this knife has been finished. The blade is beautifully ground, everything lines up, and the liners are attractively finished.

The CQC-13 really starts to shine once you start handling it. The spacious handle is extremely comfortable. There is plenty of room for forward or reverse grips and the handle features a deeply scalloped finger choil, and a nice run of jimping on the spine. This is a capable work knife and it is a pleasure to use. Ernest has a strong martial arts background and it shows time and time again in his handle designs. Simply put the ergonomics rock.

The pocket clip is once again classic Emerson. It’s a simple matte black parkerized clip, discrete and functional. My only gripe (per usual) is that the handle is only drilled and tapped for right side carry. I know they apparently make lefty versions of the knife and that you can send knife in to be drilled and tapped for left side carry (for $20) but honestly this is one of those cases where they should have just done that at the factory. Not just for lefties but also for right handed people wanting to carry on their weak side. When you consider the intended use and near $200 price tag, the 3 extra holes should come standard.

As for actual carry, the CQC-13 carries well for a larger knife. The pocket clip is discrete but not ultra-deep, so the knife is easy to get at but stays out of the way. At 5 ounces this larger knife feels lightweight for its size.

Deployment and Lockup

Naturally, one of the big selling points for an Emerson is the classic wave opening feature, which allows you to open the knife as you remove it from your pocket. If you don’t feel like waving open the CQC-13, you can always make use of the ambidextrous thumb disk, something I’ve always found slightly more cumbersome than a thumb stud or opening hole, but with a little practice it can certainly get the job done. Opening the knife is fairly smooth, Emerson uses nylatron washers in all his knives. They get the job done, especially if you opt to wave the knife open.

For lockup we have a titanium liner lock. I am generally not a huge fan of titanium for a locking liner, as it is not nearly as hard as steel of a blade tang, but Emerson has been making them this way for decades. In practice my knife still locks up fairly early, and there is little to no blade play. As an added bonus the titanium helps lighten the knife up – always a plus. It is also worth mentioning that the pivot screw is of the flathead variety, so it is easy to adjust with pretty much anything handy.

Emerson CQC-13 – Final Thoughts

Ernest’s Combat Bowie is exactly as advertised; a rugged folding tactical knife making great use of an iconic American blade shape. I have no doubt that fans of Emerson’s other offerings will also find much to love about the CQC-13. But lets be real for a moment, clearly, this is not a knife for everyone. Those preferring something a little more subtle will likely pass this one up. And like the rest of Emerson’s offerings, the Combat Bowie has it’s share of quirks unique to the brand (including the chisel ground edge, non-ambidextrous pocket clip, titanium liner lock, nylatron washers, etc). Finally, it’s not a cheap knife – not at all. All of these things tend to polarize people, and I can appreciate the opinions on both sides. However, if this is a knife that interests you I can attest that it is comfortable and well made. In conclusion the CQC-13 is another well thought out tactical folder that compliments the Emerson line nicely.

I recommend buying the Emerson CQC-13 at BladeHQ or Amazon. Please consider that purchasing anything through any of the links on this site supports BladeReviews.com by generating a small commission (at no additional cost to you), and helps support the website. Thank you very much for your support.